Requiem of the Alliance
by ShaedowFang
Summary: [NOT REGULAR WOW TIMELINE] This is a spin-off of the WoW lore and timeline, and a story based on the Alliance/Horde proportions in the Oceanic Servers. The Requiem has begun, the final gate has been broken. With the raging Horde armies striking at the doors of the world of Frostmourne, would the Alliance fall to the bloodthirsty armies and disappear from history forever


**Requiem of the Alliance**

**[Author's Note:] After a long hiatus on my other fanfiction because of work and such, I decided to write up a brand new story with a different approach to the WoW lore and timeline I loved so much.**

**In the long time I've been playing in Oceanic Servers, and from lots of discussions between the inequality of Alliance and Horde ratios in many servers, I instantly had a plotline set in mind describing these issues, and making it interesting enough. Because this is a pvp based fanfiction, so unfortunately many of the characters we both loved and hated (i.e. Thrall/Varian and Garrosh) would not be in this storyline.**

**As many of the lore and history would not be used, it might not be a fanfiction. But I uploaded it anyways.**

**[Disclaimer] All names, guilds, events are purely fictional, it has little to none relations to the current realm statuses**

**Sorry for the long note, and enjoy! :D **

"_The best way to torment a person, is to make him watch as everything he ever loved breaks down in front of him, before choking him in his own dread and remorse." – A Necromancer_

**This is the year 453, and the war between the Alliance and the Horde continues. The goddess of luck had not blessed the noble Alliance with her boon, as they struggled to maintain multiple fronts against the endless armies of the Horde. In a mere 10 years, the worlds of Caelestrasz and Dreadmaul fell to the bloodthirsty troopers marching in with futile resistance from the guardians. With the few sanctuaries remaining, the Alliance quickly devised of many methods to consolidate their defenses and prepare elite groups to retake the conquered worlds. But the efforts were all useless, and only results in losing the outer worlds to the enemies.**

**In the year 470, the Emergency Alliance Guild Council in the Fortress World of Frostmourne decided to launch an pre-emptive strike against the world of Gundrak, sabotaging their war efforts and reclaim a foothold for future operations, and the window was opened by sacrificing the world of Nagrand and its denizens to the invaders from Gundrak. **

**When the nether portal opened from Gundrak to Nagrand's Alliance HQ, Shattarth City. An Elite Response Unit was dispatched at the secret portal of Frostmourne.**

**With the fate of the remaining Alliance at their hands, they set off nervously to the twisting light in the distance.**

_**Prologue**_

In the shadowy corridors of Black Temple, a shimmering light flicks off near a flaring green brazier, the eerie fire swayed violently from the sudden force. The light rapidly expands and tore open a bright rift at the empty space. From the light 5 shadows jumped out swiftly and landed silently at the ground, barely making a noise in the silent atmosphere.

"First Phase, completed. We have exactly 14 minutes before the rift opens up again." A stoic voice whispered, informing the team of the objective.

"Good, we need to do this quick and decisive, and enough to deal a blow against their endless armies." The shadow with a strong stature and confident stance came out of the shadow, he is a human knight donned in functional steel armor with a barreled helmet, obscuring his face. He wore a tabard with two lions grasping a heavy axe as the symbol, and wielding a heavy dark-steel broadsword behind his back. After confirming the information, he turned to the side and ordered, "Revv, scout the corridors ahead for any booby traps and patrols, we need to obtain the information as soon as possible in order to finish the objective as soon as possible."

The shadow with the stoic voice walked out of the shadow and joined the warrior; he is a gnome with a grim and tired face, and from the pressure released from his eyes, he have had much experience on combat as a seasoned veteran in the war. He wore a saber-skinned armor with two weirdly-shaped daggers strapped safety at his belt, the daggers occasionally drips off green liquid that sizzles and vaporizes on the ground, corroding slowly at anything it touches. He nodded briefly and quickly disappeared into the shadows.

"Najiuna, are the wards properly set up?" the warrior asked at a tall figure in the group of shadows.

"Yes, Captain Cumberland, the wards are positioned at the four corners of the rift, concealing its trace from the patrols." Najiuna replied, the dim illumination revealed her to be a Night Elf Arcanist, with the dashing garments of a typical Alliance Archmage, the staff she wields were taken from a branch of Nordrassil, the World Tree.

"Acknowledged. From here we would split up to two groups, Najiuna, you will stay in the ward's barrier and wait for Revv's return. After the information was obtained, convey the information to me. I'll lead Rommel and Suradin and attack at our first target, the Armory." Captain Cumberland issued quick orders to the team, "Rommel! Suradin! On me!" The two remaining shadows, rogues of human and dwarven origin, followed the leader and they crept quietly to the door in the distance. With a silent bomb devised by the Gnomish engineers back in the HQ, they easily blew the lock in pieces, and advanced easily to the Armory, from the easily recognizable fel green tubes coiling around the building.

"Rommel, stay and watch our six. Suradin! Use the Shroud!" the Captain barked sentences without moving his lips in an attempt to hide their presence from the heavily armed orc guardians patrolling at the foyer. But the two rogues did not understand the leader's command, and looked in confusion at the warrior.

_These idiots...! _the Captain cursed, and he made hand signals with his group, it took longer than a normal order to convey its meaning, but at least they understood his plan. The dwarf named Suradin took out a small package from his pouch, unwrapping it delicately with his bulging dwarven fingers. The package expands rapidly, and easily conceals the party from predators' eyes within seconds.

The group stayed in position, watching the guards' next move. The orcish guards felt something and investigated briefly.

"I think I saw something" (orcish)

One of the taller guards looked around, his fingers playing with the handle of his axe.

"What did you see again? The fel green dust of this wretched land?"

The undead guard joked at the orc, and continued drinking the mysterious liquid from the container.

"I think I saw some sort of cloak or cloth at the distance, there could be spies in the fortress!"

The orc trusted his senses, and unsheathed his axe. He squinted his eyes, looking for any thread or weak point at the courtyard.

"Give it up! We haven't had any attack on this world, and definitely not this fortress in months. Gundrak is Horde ground; we easily sacked their HQ at that Night Elf tree at Mount Hyjai. The last time we had a report of any Alliance soldiers, would be the stupid Night Elf druid trying to infiltrate New Agmand, Highlord Razorflank quickly sniffed the stench of a cat and dragged the poor spy out of hiding. I remember the Highlord crushing the skull of the druid repeatedly, and actually dicing the wisp spirit of the druid apart!"

The undead laughed loudly with his crackling voice, and part of his jaw fell out of place.

"Oops, guess I should restrain myself from laughing off at these small humourous events. Let's Go! Gorrok!"

The orc named Gorrok sheathed his axe, but his gaze continued to pierce the air between the Alliance party and the courtyard, but he quickly gave up, dismissing it as the howling wind from the unstable weather of Shadowmoon Valley.

After the patrol left, the shroud wore off and revealed the party's location. The Captain signaled the group to keep moving, and after a short spur through the open courtyard, they arrived at the Armory.

"So this is the Armory... Rommel! Suradin! Set charges at the entrance! I will investigate the Armory, finding anything relevant to their sudden increase in army size and strength!"

The two rogues nodded and quickly went into the shadows, preparing the bombs for the sabotage.

The Captain unsheathed his blade and walked in cautiously, constantly on guard from traps and patrols. He sneaked into the foyer of the Armory, and he arrived at the intersection, with paths leading to three rooms located conveniently at the West, East and North of his position.

He decided to investigate the room on the West, and went in without much trouble from the guards.

When he went into the hall, he could not believe what he is seeing.

Massive experimental machines working conjunctionally and set up in order at the room. From the size of the room, there must be about 400-500 of these. And each machine contains a capsule, storing a Horde soldier in greenish liquid. The captain held off his gasp, and moved to a console next to the machine. The console displayed many Orcish explanations, but from his expertise at 7 languages, he quickly decrypted the words on the panel.

"Creation...of...Supersoldiers. Every soldier...Veteran or above...combat prowess...

Infused...with...Dark matter...!"

He finally let off a gasp, and stood petrified for a few seconds.

Dark Matter, it is a new element recently discovered by an expedition of guilds from Alliance and Horde. The element infuses any living being with a new power, the power grants them advanced reflexes, muscles, processing speed, response and many more. Essentially granting them powers of a God into a mortal.

The element was so powerful that a mere grunt of the Horde could easily defeat a Gigantic Ogre barehanded, or a knight of the Alliance could obliterate a fortified camp of high ranking undead. The element was the reason the Alliance and Horde progress through many dangers without much difficulty.

But the guilds of both factions began to get greedy, they wanted the matter for their own so that they could invade and capture key points in the world, defeating guardians of the location and taking all the treasures and benefits to their own. The conflict spread quickly, and soon all the worlds are at war against each other. Borderlands assaults are common in recent years, with raiders from both sides slaughtering each other, and endangering any innocents in the area. Fortresses and other defenses were built, guilds conscripting armies for war, and dark matter were experimented so the full power could be brought out.

But the power of Dark Matter could never be controlled, and finally a tragic event marked the end of the First Alliance-Horde World War.

The captain looked at the time, and found out he only has 3 minutes before the rift opens again. He scribed important notes at a parchment, detailing the dark matter use of the Horde, and went for the nearest exit, but before he could reach for the corridor, a bomb went off. The blast propelled the human back to the chamber, and collapsed the only exit from the experimental hall.

"So you are the little rat that has been sneaking in MY domain!?"

A booming voice shouted out at the distance, and everything in the room could feel the tremendous force. The captain shuddered at it, as he knew who he would be facing.

Hand of Gundrak, the Strongest Orc, handpicked by the top guilds of the Horde as the Commander of the First Army, General Grimshadow. He is an orc of tall stature, standing three heads above any tall orc. He has a stout face with multiple scars from his extended combat experiences. The dark and haunting Adamantite armor is feared by most Alliance solider, with fel energy seeping out from the small creepy cracks of the green skulls he decorated on the metal.

General Grimshadow lifted up his Great sword; the sword was one of his biggest trophies. He stumbled upon an Alliance raiding party, fighting the evil dragon Nefarian during his "stroll" as written in the legends. And when the dragon fell, a gleaming sword fell from the dragon's armor. The Alliance started fighting against each other for the chance to hold the glorious weapon, and the general just shrugged, and slay the entire party by himself, and looted the weapon away.

The devilish sword held inches away from the Captain's face, and he could feel the blood of the slain dripping to his body, corrupting his soul from the inside.

The General spoke in common, "So which world are you from? Nagrand? Dath'Remar? Do not say you are from Gundrak, I think I have told every single guild in this world to not leave even the skin cell of an ALLIANCE DOG IN MY REALM!?"

The voice created a vortex and the Captain can feel his bones breaking just from the force, but he remained silent.

"So, I guess you wouldn't speak at all. I admire your courage to infiltrate into this fortress, and so I will execute you with this blade!" He held up his blade, and the Captain closed his eyes, waiting for the gravity to pull the blade down, taking his life.

"General! I have caught two of the sneaky thieves outside of the Armory, they are trying to set charges at the entrance!" (orcish) A tauren guard came in from the back entrance, the same way the General came in from. He held up two black bags and allowed the general to investigate, the stench of the dead rogues' blood filled the room.

"Did you find anything useful from the bodies?" The General asked, in common. The captain suspects he did this to mock the Alliance.

"Yes! Even though they tried to hide any trace on which world they came from, but from the tabards they wore beneath the leather armor, I found out that they came from the guilds in Frostmourne."

_Bollocks! _ The Captain screamed in his mind.

"Frostmourne!? FROSTMOURNE!?" The general burst out in laughter, and it again shook the room.

He then walked back to The Captain, and impaled his blade deeply at his right arm. The Captain shrieked in excruciating pain.

"So FINALLY the big elites of Frostmourne are willingly to do something instead of hiding in their fortresses? HA HA HA HA! I love it! I love it! More wars to fight then, they brought this upon themselves!"

The general shouted orcish back to the guards that was behind him all along.

"Shadow of the Horde, bring this order to the entire First Army! Prepare for war to Frostmourne! Destroy any worlds between them and us! LEAVE NO SURVIVORS!"

The two skinny shadows bowed before vanishing into thin air.

"Back to business then, so Mr. Human, how would you want to be chopped by me?"

The General's bloodthirsty laugh echoes the empty corridors of The Black Temple.

**The year is 457, the armies of Horde are multiplied by four in 4 years, and they've advanced at Alliance territories in multiple fronts, and they marched across the worlds, leaving calamity and destruction. And now, the final barrier Alliance devised to stop the Horde invasion, The Wall of Barthilas, a fortress world built solely for the purpose to dampen the invasion force between Frostmourne and the merciless Horde, has fallen to the First and Third Horde Army.  
Moreover, the Horde used the military supplies and equipment of Barthilas to strengthen their efforts, reducing their time to recover.**

**The last barrier has fallen, and Frostmourne is in imminent danger. War has befallen to the final bastion of the Alliance.**

**The Requiem of the Alliance has begun.**

**[Author's Note] So this is the first chapter of the story. Well technically it's the prologue to the main storyline. I'm not sure when I would be publishing my second chapter, and please rate and review if you like it, it means a lot. Thanks!**


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